


Slytherin Girl, Daughter Weasley

by Dangos2



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:27:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5420549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangos2/pseuds/Dangos2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You must be willing to give up who you are for what you can become."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I've always felt that distant train whistles heard in the dead of night are the universe's way of letting us know the best days are neither ahead nor behind us...they're happening right now, cradled in the palms of our hands."   
> ― Dave Matthes, Sleepeth Not, the Bastard

Muggles are oblivious. They miss the most obvious things. Even if a wizard were to sit beside a muggle on the commuter rail the muggle will remain unawares of magic. He might notice his companion’s velvet cloak studded with silver stars and think,

 _Weirdo_ , but he won’t see the briefcase hovering half an inch off the ground. Wizards are different because they’re not oblivious. They noticed magic and mastered it thousands of years before muggles even thought of plumbing. Generations ago wizards decided to get away from muggles and their oblivion. Wizards evaporated like smoke between the cracks in the pavement. They disappeared in blinding flashes of light reflected in storefront panes of glass, and they faded through the pages of muggle history books.

The Muggles didn’t notice magic while the wizards lived beside them and they haven’t noticed its absence since the wizards disappeared. Maybe it’s all for the best now. Because now, in London, on a train station, a girl is disentangling from her parents’ arms. And leaping onto a scarlet engine after her cousin. Her cousin who is the spitting image of a man; a man who from his untidy black hair, to his lightning shaped scar screams oddball yet is receiving admiring instead of admonishing glances. It’s good that muggles wouldn’t know who these people are because the girl, Rose Weasley, has grown up with muggles. She grew up in bus bustling London and so she doesn’t understand what Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley mean to some people.

As the pale girl smiles sweetly and waves to her parents, the Hogwarts Express charges away from Platform 9 ¾, Rose’s parents, and London. For right now Rose is only worried about grades and pocket change. And friends.

 

 

She stared absently out her window at the passing farmland and sighed.

 _You can’t forget friends._ She thought to herself despondently.

Rose sat across from her cousins as close to the window as she could. While outside everything began looking misty from the creeping fog Rose crammed herself into the last pocket of clean air in a compartment congested by the heady scent of Victoire’s perfume. She concentrated on breathing the only air that wasn’t making her want to puke and watched while drops of condensation ran across the window pane. It was getting smaller, that clean air pocket.  
Rose sighed and resisted the urge to hit her head against the glass in frustration. She licked her lips and glanced at Al and Victoire to see if they were registering her current perturbed state of mind. They were talking about what they were going to get from the trolley.

 _So, that’d be a Nope._ She thought to herself, half relieved and half annoyed.

Unfortunately for Rose it didn’t look like Victoire, who was a seventh year, was going to leave soon. Rose knew that kids in her year would be too intimidated to volunteer to sit with a seventh year. All seventh years were intimidating to kids who were younger than them. Therefore, Rose concluded grumpily, it was going to be difficult to make friends on the train. It really didn’t help matters, either, that making friends was an activity Rose wasn’t particularly experienced in.  
She’d always had family for company while she was at school and maybe a random girl to talk with in-between classes. She hadn’t needed to learn how to make friends. Two years ago Rose did actually talk a girl named Jenny everyday between science and maths class. They used to talk for about ten minutes about the tele show Marian before their teacher started the lesson. That was basically the extent of Rose’s past social life.

But this year has to be different. She was going to have to make friends this year, Rose could feel that certainty pressing into her bones.

A sound to her right made Rose flick her brown eyes up to the compartment door window. A pair of giggling girls were stooping to look in. The girls stopped simpering when they caught Rose’s eye and they kept passing. They now looked a little bashful.

 _Good._ She thought viciously. Rose rubbed her arms in an attempt to shake off the prickly feeling all over her skin and looked out the window again.

There had been two groups in the past two hours who had tried to look in at Rose and her cousins without being caught. Both groups were completely unsuccessful.  
At least, Rose thought the kids were obvious. Neither of Rose’s cousins had seemed to notice the snooping students even though they were the ones closest to the door. Rose would normally have been preoccupied by the trees flashing past her window seat but the kids were beginning to get on Rose’s nerves. Rose couldn’t think of what was so funny, there was nothing weird going on in her compartment.

It was unsettling to have people looking into her compartment and laughing for no reason, because today was different. Hogwarts changed everything.  
Rose was beginning school at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry but before she could begin classes at Hogwarts Rose would have to be sorted. The sorting was what set Hogwarts apart, maybe even from other magic schools. It was the ultimate test for a first year at Hogwarts.

Rose’s older cousin Fred insisted that the sorting was more important than exams. Normally Rose thought that Fred was, as her mom said, “histrionic,” but in this case Rose agreed with Fred. Rose knew from family stories that there were four houses a first year could be sorted into. Gryffindor was for the brave, Ravenclaw for the brilliant, and Hufflepuff House was, well, for kids who couldn’t decide what they were. Slytherin House was the misfit; it only took kids who were ambitious, selfish, and greedy.

Her Uncle Harry had said they’d changed since the war but the last time he'd said that Rose’s dad had rolled his eyes at his best friend. “Blimey, Harry, you can’t forgive the whole house just because Snape didn’t turn out to be a traitor. Most of them are slimy, backstabbing gits!”  
Rose’s Uncle Harry was her father’s brother-in-law and best friend, but that didn’t mean that they naturally agreed on everything. Rose’s dad was, in general, less forgiving than her uncle. Anyways, the rest of the family shared her dad’s opinion.

Now, Rose was a smart girl. She knew that people judged whether they would be friends or enemies based simply on which house they were a part of. So, she had settled it in her mind that the sorting was when you were turned inside out for everyone to see. And the fact that people were already judging Rose made her more than a little nervous.

The pressure for Rose to be just right had been building for weeks, leading right up to that moment when the train pulled away from the station. While she was on the station, though, Rose had been forced to continue putting on a brave face for her family. She had to smile and laugh with her family convincingly as if she wasn’t on the verge of turning and puking into the train tracks.

Even now, on the train, Rose couldn’t slip up in her calm reliable girl charade. Rose didn’t want anyone to catch on to how nervous she was- she hated it when people fussed. It made her feel bothered. But in the end, reassuring the people around her was the only thing she could do to relieve some of the pressure bearing down on her shoulders. Ultimately, it did no good for to waste time worrying. Rose had no say in the house that she got sorted into.

The gossiping clusters of children, however, were not helping Rose keep a lid on her anxiety. They were adding a lot of unneeded tension to Rose’s fraying nerves. Actually, now that Rose thought about it, with a quick scrutinizing glance, Victoire was not helping much either. Victoire sat with Al in the seat across from Rose as she continued a lecture on all the outs, never mind the ins, of Hogwarts.

“Never try to feed the Giant Squid, it’s very picky.” Victoire said, “Also, don’t even think about going into the Forbidden Forest, and the school owls won’t carry whatever you want so don’t try to return Nana’s sweaters, they don’t carry large packages-”

Albus looked up from his chocolate frog card collection at Victoire. Al and Rose had an identical set. They hardly ate the frogs themselves but they tag teamed persuading the rest of the family into eating chocolates until they found a card the other one had been missing. It was a special project they’d been working on for years.

Al’s brows furrowed in confusion at Victoire’s last remark, “Why would I want to get rid of Nana Molly’s sweaters?”

Al’s question made a smile creep onto Rose’s face and she resisted an urge to roll her eyes.

Victoire stopped mid-sentence and stared at Al, “Don’t you think they’re ugly, Al?” Victoire asked.

He shrugged.

Rose caught Albus’s eye and shook her head a nearly imperceptible amount at him, just enough to warn him to drop the issue, but he ignored her and turned to Victoire.

“No, I don’t really care.” Al said. He seemed a little concerned for Victoire, when her face went slack.

Rose ducked down and pretended to look through her knapsack so she could hide a grin. Rose loved how clueless Al was when dealing with Victoire. He was the only person in their whole family who had not learned how to handle Victoire appropriately when it came to fashion. Albus was so innocently funny.

Fashion was once something that Victoire would spend hours arguing about with the family. A few years ago everybody (except Al) learned to avoid THE fashion discussion. Not one person, not even Victoire’s siblings, really understood her obsession. According to Victoire the family was presentable, not shabby, or embarrassing, but not fashionable either.

Victoire looked like a model and dressed like a model. Her long legs, perfect figure, ice blue eyes, and blonde hair were always perfectly complemented. Victoire’s fashion sense was impeccable.

 _I don’t get why it’s so important for the rest of us to be fashionable._ Rose considered her gorgeous cousin. __It’s not like any of us look like her.__ She thought.

At least, Rose didn’t look like Victoire. Rose was tall and thin too, but her hair was rust colored and bushy. Rose’s eyes were a blackish brown and her skin was so pale that it looked like she had been whitewashed. She looked nothing like Victoire. For Rose that was a fantastic excuse to avoid designers. If it wasn’t going to make a difference in how she looked, why would she put in the effort to change?

Teddy Lupin, Uncle Harry’s godson, was the one guy who Victoire didn’t seem intent on forcing to wear Club Monaco. Victoire probably let up on Teddy because he was also her boyfriend. Well, that’s what everyone assumed since he’d been spotted snogging her that morning on the platform.  
Maybe he’s snogging her so she won’t bug him. Rose picked up _Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection to read. This could take a while._

“Well, in any case,” Victoire, surprise of all surprises decided to drop the problem herself.

Rose looked at her older cousin in surprise. Maybe Teddy has had more of an effect on Victoire than I thought. Victoire didn’t look different to Rose, but she also couldn’t see a vein pulsing in Victoire’s jaw over Al’s fashion ineptitude. That was a really big change for Victoire to make since last year when she snapped at everyone over the smallest problem in their outfit.

 _Maybe it wasn’t just Teddy._ Maybe Victoire decided to change, for some reason… Rose considered thoughtfully.  
Victoire adjusted her mini skirt with a dismissive sniff. “Just promise me that you won’t do anything that-”

**Bang!**

Rose heard screams from what sounded like several yards down the corridor. A bunch of people began sticking their heads out of their compartments. James, Al’s older brother, came rushing down the hall a second latter. He threw himself into their compartment and slammed the door shut, crouching down to the ground. He was just in time to be missed by a large group of girls headed by prefects charging down the corridor.  
“James would do.” Victoire finished her sentence awkwardly. Rose stared as James rolled around near her left foot, clutching his sides in laughter.

“Al, Al,” he gasped, “You should have seen it, it was brilliant!”

Victoire’s face turned an angry red blotchy color. She swooped down, snatched James by the collar of his shirt, and pinned him down in one of the seats.

Al and Rose smirked at each other. James was done for.

“James what did you do this time?” Victoire exclaimed angrily. Victoire didn’t look so prim and proper now that her hair was falling out of its butterfly clip.

James held his hands up in a sign of defeat, “It was nothing, honestly Victoire, just a small smoke bomb.”

Victoire let go of the back of James’ shirt scowling like she couldn’t believe what he had done.

 _So what? It’s just a smoke bomb. Rose thought to herself dismissively._ Her eyes lazily skimmed over her page trying to find where she’d left off in her book. _He blew the Burrow’s bathroom sky high not even a month ago._

“James what have I told you about this sort of behavior?” Victoire asked, her blue eyes glittering imposingly. She stuck her hands on her hips in an authoritative pose. “It is extremely damaging to the nerves and quality,”

“Of education not only for me and my mates, but also those of my fellow Hogwartians. Yeah, I heard you the first million times.” James flicked his black messy hair out of his hazel eyes with a cocky smirk.

Victoire regarded her younger cousin with a scowl. Rose felt a surge of warm affection for her cousin and suppressed another giggle. Only the Potter brothers could make someone as annoying as Victoire seem funny.

Rose heard Al cough and she turned to look at him. He wordlessly pointed at a group of kids who were standing outside the compartment watching them. Rose felt the little ounce of carefree happiness that James had brought into the compartment get washed away by a hot surge of anger. That was the last straw for Rose.

“Victoire, who are those people?” Rose snapped catching Victoire and James’ attention for the first time. “And why are they staring at us? They’ve been doing it the whole train ride.” Rose could feel her ears heating up from her annoyance.

Victoire looked over her shoulder at the kids who, upon being spotted by the seventh year, quickly dispersed. She sighed and shook her head in exasperation, “I’ll explain latter, Rose, but not now.” She turned back to James. “I’m going to go tell the prefects where you are.” She said before walking out of the compartment and heading the same way the prefects had.

James jumped up from his seat, “Ah, Vicky, come on that’s not fair!” He didn’t get an answer. “Well,” he said turning to Al and Rose in defeat, “I’d better find another hiding place, good luck with the Slytherins, Al.” James sauntered away.

Al got pink in the cheeks. James had been teasing Al all day that he would be sorted into Slytherin. “You don’t scare me, James!” Al yelled after him.

Rose put down her book and ran after James. She wanted to know why people were staring at her, and if Victoire wouldn’t explain Rose was going try getting James to. “Wait, James,” she called out.

James paused for second and turned around. He raised an eyebrow questioningly at Rose. “Yeah, Rosie?”

“Do you know who those people were? The ones who were staring at us back at the compartment,”

James grinned at Rose and ruffled her hair good-naturedly, “Don’t worry about it, Rosie Posy, it’s nothing to get your shorts in a twist about.”

Rose scowled, there were people now who were watching them. She could see them looking out their compartment windows in the corner of her eye. _The nerve of some people!_ She thought with contempt. “But they’re getting annoying!” she said a little louder than absolutely necessary and was rewarded when a few of the kids dropped their eyes. _Hmph_

“Just ignore it, that’s what I do.” With that advice James strutted down the hall.

Rose crossed her arms, “And don’t call me Rosie Posy, James!” He just waved and kept walking. Rose sighed. She guessed that she’d just have to put up with it for the rest of the train ride. She walked back to the compartment and sat down again across from Al.

“What’s up?” he asked looking up at her.

Rose leaned her chin in her hand, “I wanted to see if he knew why everyone’s staring at us,”

Al nodded polishing the Andros the Invincible card, “That was weird, did he have any ideas why?”

Rose shook her head dejectedly, “Nope, but it’s getting on my nerves and it’s making me… nervous, you know?” She glanced at him uncertainly.

But to Rose’s relief Al nodded, “Yeah, I think I know what you mean.” He sighed gazing out at the passing farmland. “We’ll probably both be fine at the sorting, though,” He looked up at Rose and smiled. “You definitely will, Rose, you’re nothing but Weasley!”

Rose grimaced. That was her problem. True, Rose didn’t have any freckles, and her hair was more of a rusty color than red but all the other Weasley traits were brilliantly present in her. Her dad’s awkward tall genes and an embarrassing tendency to blush tomato red made Rose infuriatingly similar to all of her cousins. And as a Weasley it was almost a given she’d be sorted into the coveted Gryffindor house, which was fine if you wanted to be constantly compared to an enormous family of hotblooded war heroes. Rose, for one, was not eager to have one ambivalent (and not applicable) trait define her personality.  

There were two Weasleys who were not in Gryffindor: Victoire, who was a Ravenclaw, and Lucy the first ever Hufflepuff. It was fine for Victoire, who was admittedly not even a ginger, to not be a Gryffindor.

Lucy was excused as well. She was only a third year, but she’d already transformed the Hufflepuff Quidditch team into a force to be reckoned with. Lucy had been the first Hufflepuff ever to be allowed to play Quidditch their first year. She was also the first student to be allowed on their House team as a first year since Uncle Harry. Hufflepuff hadn’t lost the cup since. Lucy and Victoire were non-Gryffindors the Weasleys could be proud of, but it’d be difficult to stand out in their houses with all their success. Also, Slytherin wasn’t even an option for a Weasley no matter what Al’s dad said.

Honestly, though, Rose was truly scared. Even if people didn’t judge her harshly they’d see her as just another Weasley. It wasn’t like she had a choice, though. It wasn’t like she could be another Victoire.

“You’re right.” Someone said from the doorway.

Rose and Al looked up from their conversation to see a pair of children. The boy on the left was taller than the one on the right. He also had long, broad shoulders and a face that was about as expressive as a rock. Rose knew the other boy, the boy who had spoken. She glanced sidelong at Al and realized he recognized the new boy too, his name was Scorpius Malfoy. Rose and Al had grown up hearing stories about Malfoy’s father and his abuse towards fellow students. They’d also been warned to stay as far away from Malfoy as possible that very morning.

Rose narrowed her eyes at Malfoy. He was just as tall as Rose, impressive, but his face was pointy and long. His robes were brand new and his fine platinum blonde hair was much messier than it had been that morning. Malfoy stood in the doorway beside the tall boy with his head cocked to the side. The expression on his pasty ferret face said that he was clearly amused by the stir he had created.

Malfoy smirked at Rose, “It’s obvious who you two are.”

Rose didn’t flinch, “Well aren’t you so smart?” she replied bitingly. Every red head in Hogwarts is a Weasley.

Al glared at the other boys, “What do you want?” he asked testily.

Malfoy and the boy dropped into the seats beside Al and Rose, “This is McGuire, and I’m Malfoy,” Malfoy introduced unnecessarily. McGuire smelled like bologna.

“What are you doing?” Rose spluttered feeling annoyed.

“Sitting.” Malfoy ignored her glare and turned to Al. “You were talking about the sorting earlier, weren’t you? What house do want?”

Al was floundering a bit, being confused by Malfoy’s abruptness, “Um, Gryffindor,” he said blankly.

Malfoy nodded, “And I suppose Weasley wants to be a lion-hearted Gryffie, too?” Malfoy said not even looking Rose’s way.

Rose’s patience, which had been under duress since the beginning of the summer, finally snapped. Reality shifted just a bit. Just enough. It was enough for Rose to feel it. “Actually, no, I don’t!” She cried angrily at the obnoxious boy across from her.

Malfoy looked at her and raised his eyebrows, “Really, then what will you be, a Hufflepuff?”

Rose gritted her teeth, “Don’t act like you know me Malfoy,” she spat. “I’m not so predictable that you’d know me in under a minute.”

To Rose's supreme vexation, Malfoy didn’t seem miffed at all. He threw back his head and laughed, “Yeah, maybe you’ll be sorted into Slytherin, instead!”

Al’s green eyes darkened quickly, “Leave her alone, what’s your problem?” he said roughly.

“I’d never want to be a Slytherin,” Rose said venomously. “Because then I’d have to be near prats like you!” Malfoy just sat back in his seat and kept laughing.

“Come on, Al,” she hissed. “Let’s go sit with James.” Rose got up but didn’t bother to turn around to see if Albus followed her. She could still hear Malfoy laughing at her in the quiet hall. She would show him…

_No_

She would show them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope you all like the story. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.


	2. The Sorting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain?”  
> -Mr. Weasley (J.K. Rowling), Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets

The rest of the ride to Hogwarts was almost bad as earlier. James’ group of friends consisted of Rose’s cousin Fred Weasley and a family friend, Mike Wood. The group was as loud as humanly possible. James and Al were playing Exploding Snap and arguing because Al kept pointing out that James was cheating and James refused to fess up. At the same time Mike and Rose were trying to talk to each other over Al and James’ argument but they were kept getting interrupted by Fred. Fred, was scream-asking homework questions every thirty seconds from the schoolwork he hadn't finished over summer break.   
  
The three older boys were permanent fixtures in Rose’s life, even Mike. Mike’s dad had been the Gryffindor Quidditch captain once and the Woods were good friends with another family friend, the Scamanders. Lorcan and Lysander Scamander’s mother was Luna Scamander, who was best friends with Al’s mom, Rose’s Aunt Ginny. Rolf and Luna Scamander were naturalists and they used to travel all over the world looking for new animals.

When they came back to settle in England the Woods helped them out. James and Mike were introduced during a playdate with the Scamanders and had been inseparable since then. Rose couldn’t remember a time when Mike wasn’t attached to the hip of either James or one of the twins. Rose liked Mike because he was kind and even tempered, although, as Rose was soon reminded, he was friends with James and Fred and that meant that he was not above shouting the entire trip to Hogwarts.

“Di’ you have fun ’n ’R-any R-se?!” Mike asked her.

Rose couldn’t make heads or tails out of what he was trying to say. “What?!” she asked leaning closer.

That didn’t do any good because James and Al escalated their volume a good twenty decibels. “You cheated, James, I-” Al yelled.

“NO-” James screamed back at Al.

Then they started going at the same time.

Al: “YEAH I”

 James: “YOU NEVER-”

Al: “DID”

James: “SAW ANYTHING!”

Al: “BECAUSE,”

James: “YOU’RE LYING!”

Al: “That, CARD!” 

 “WHAT’S A CHIZPURFLE?!”  Fred wailed. 

“GERmany!” shouted Mike so as to clarify what “R-any” was.

“OH!” Rose had gone to Germany over the summer with her parents and brother. “Nice!” Rose replied as loudly as she could.

Mike nodded and Rose settled into her seat again. It was going to be a long trip.

Finally, when they were about an hour away from Hogwarts, Exploding Snap was put away and Fred gave up on finishing his homework. He chose, instead, to unearth a box of experimental Weasley Wizard Wheezes. A Quidditch discussion was then established that was civil enough at first. After the boys got through that year’s trades, however, the conversation moved on to which team was strongest that year. In light of James’ unholy support of the Falmouth Falcons Mike and Al forgot about reigning in Fred and Rose was left on her own.

  
Rose held a piece of disgusting looking licorice that Fred had been trying to feed James’ tawny owl, Karl. She was fairly certain that, despite Fred’s protests, something colored that shade of puke green had to be unhealthy.

“Come on Rosie, give it back.” Fred whined sullenly.

  
“Hey,” Dominique, Victoire’s younger sister, poked her strawberry blonde head into the compartment. “It’s time to get dressed,” she announced.  “And James,” she squinted at him in mock suspicion, “Don’t put on your Quidditch gear again. We haven’t got tryouts till next week.”

James had worn Quidditch gear to his sorting. Rose blushed just thinking about it. Sometimes he was difficult to swallow.

James rolled his eyes at Dominique who copied him good naturedly and left the compartment.

It wasn't long after that the Hogwarts Express pulled into the small Hogsmead station. Rose hopped out of the train and separated from James and his friends.

She was walking and checking her bag at the same time to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything when, “Oomph,” Rose bumped into a boy. She looked at the boy, a blonde haired freckled kid, with startling blue eyes and grimaced at him, rubbing her shoulder where she had bumped into him. “Sorry.” She said. _Clutz._ She thought, then berated herself for being uncharitable. _You don’t know him, Rosie! Stop being sour._

The boy grinned. “No problem.” Rose watched him as he walked over to a girl her age struggling with a trunk. “You leave that behind, Tess.”

Rose briefly considered that he looked too old to be a first year but forgot about it when she heard somebody shouting. “Firs’ Years, ova’ here!”

At the sound of that voice Rose’s pulse jumped in excitement.  _Hagrid._  She thought happily.

Rose and Al had known Hagrid since they were babies, one of her earliest memories, in fact, was of playing with a shoelace as wide as her fist. There were more whispers as Rose and Al pushed to the front of the crowd.   
  
“Hagrid!” Al called waving.

 People were still pointing which made Rose grip her wand angrily, but she did smile when her wand warmed up in her hand as if it were itching to jinx somebody. She’d gotten it while on the family trip to Germany. Normally Rose’s family vacationed in Australia with her mum’s parents but they stirred it up a bit that year.

The trip had been during the last weeks of summer, so Rose had to buy her wand while in Germany. The wand maker was a student of the famous, Gregorovitch, and in very high demand, so Rose’s mom had felt safe in getting a wand from him.

That didn’t stop Rose’s dad from muttering. “Bloody foreigner,” under his breath when Rose’s mum wasn’t listening. The wand maker was a young man who was so thin and translucent that Rose could see the blue pulsing veins in his face.

When Rose and her dad went to pick out the wand the wandmaker’s tiny black eyes lighted on Rose for just a minute before he darted off to his shelves, returning with a narrow box.

He lifted out a pale wand and handed it to Rose. “Hazel, unicorn hair, twelve inches, springy,”

Rose took the wand and tentatively flicked her wrist. All the boxes in shelves flew out at the man in response. The little man’s eyebrows jumped and he snatched the wand away before cleaning up the mess.   
  
“I-I’m sorry,” Rose stuttered, feeling shaken.

Rose’s dad patted her on the shoulder. “That’s alright, Rosie, nobody’s ever gotten it on their first try.” He did look a little worried, though, when the small man hurried into the back room.

The man returned in a moment, however, with a knotted and twisted wand of dark, blackish brown wood. “Grape vine wood, chimera and demiguise, 12 ½ inches, hard,”

Before Rose could take the wand her dad held her back, taking her by the shoulder. “Chimera and demiguise,” he said incredulously, “We’re from England, we’ve only seen unicorn hair and stuff,” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the ghost man, “How do I know that’s safe?”

The little man shot him a peeved look. “If it doesn’t work we try the boring ones,” he snapped thrusting the wand at Rose. She took the wand hesitantly and it instantly warmed her fingers as the window opened and a sudden gust of wind whipped through making the chimes hanging there tinkle merrily.   
  
"Sold.” The little man rang them up quickly and ushered them out the door. Just like that day a few weeks ago Rose felt happy that it was on her side.   
  
“Albus! Rosie! How r’ yeh doin’?” Hagrid asked them happily. Al grinned up at their old family friend. Rose was so happy to see a friendly face that she ran right up and hugged Hagrid.   
  
“Can’t complain,” Al said cheerfully.   
  
“That’s good.” Hagrid said clapping him on the back so Al’s face was almost driven into the ground. “Alrigh’ first years, follow me!” he called to the rest of the crowd and he led the way from the train station to the lake.

Rose and Albus carefully avoided a boat with Malfoy and managed to snag one that was empty. When everyone was seated the boats began to magically glide across the chocolate black lake.

Rose dragged her fingers through the water and was startled to see a long tentacle sweep past.   
“Al, look!” she yelled happily, “It’s the Giant Squid.”

Al leaned over with Rose and exclaimed excitedly when he spotted the enormous arrowhead-shaped shadow slide away through the inky water. “Cool!” he yelled.

Rose giggled but stopped when she saw a certain blonde boy staring at them. She coughed a little and started pointing out places in the castle like the Hall and Library to Al while trying to ignore Malfoy’s curious gaze. She wanted him to mind his own business!

Ten or twelve minutes later the boats scudded up to the shore by the castle and Rose and Al clambered out onto the gravel. Al and Rose pulled the boat onto the rocky beach and then followed the other students who had begun to follow Hagrid up into the castle. Hagrid led the students through the Entrance Hall to the great double doors. He herded them into two single file lines. Rose dragged Al to the front, much to his disbelief; Rose usually wasn’t the most forward person but Rose wanted to get it all over with as fast as she could.

A second latter a tall, broad shouldered man with a harried look to him ran up the steps. “All here, all here then?” he gasped glancing over his list. The man’s eyes fell on Rose and Al and he lost that harried look, smiling a little. “Rosie, Al, you doing alright?”   
  
“Hi Neville,” Rose whispered. Neville was another old family friend who now taught Herbology at Hogwarts. His wife, Hannah, owned the Leaky Cauldron and always had a vanilla shake for Al and Rose.

Al smiled. “We’re fine, how about you, Professor?”

Neville checked the list again. “All good, just had some trouble in the greenhouses, ready now?” he asked kindly. Rose and Al nodded. “Alright, then here we go,”   
  
“Don’t see why you get special treatment.” Whispered a petulant voice over Rose’s shoulder. Rose turned to look at the girl who’d spoken. She was small and wraith like thin with very plain brown hair and a sour look on her face.   
  
“It’s obvious,” sneered her companion, a pretty girl with long black hair and blue eyes but with just as an unpleasant expression on as her friend. The girl’s expression was something like that of somebody who had found dragon dung on the bottom of her shoe. “They’re the Wotters, they always get petted on by all the teachers.”

Rose could feel the back of her neck start to heat up. She could tell that, like everyone else, these girls somehow knew her and Al too, but unlike the other children on the train these girls did not seem to like, “Wotters.” She also had a feeling that this conversation was not likely to end well and abruptly turned around. She fixed her eyes on the doors.   
  
“Wotters?” Al asked confused.   
  
“Just ignore them, Al.” Rose said sharply. At that moment Neville opened the doors and all the first years gasped in unison, even Al and Rose. As they advanced behind Neville most of the students stared at the enchanted ceiling in awe, but Rose couldn’t help staring at all the other students. She’d been to Hogwarts before to visit Hagrid with her parents, so nothing could amaze her about the castle, except the students. There were so many of them!   
  
Rose wasn’t used to seeing so many people in the Hall at once and was unnerved when she found that most of the other children were staring at her. Rose tentatively followed Neville and again came the whispers. They flooded the Great Hall the moment the students caught sight of Al and Rose. The Great Hall seemed much bigger to Rose now, she hadn’t imagined it could house so many people at once.

When at last the first years reached the foot of the stairs that led to where the teachers sat, Rose was able to see THE HAT, as Rose called it inside her head, sitting on a stool in front of the staff. Neville marched over and stood by it. For a second everyone was silent, and then THE HAT opened its brim. 

“Several centuries ago

There were four great sorcerers

Who gained immense fame of their own.

Hufflepuff knew many cures

For your anger, drought, or famine.

Ravenclaw knew every star

And how to speak with dragons.

Gryffindor he knew much of war-

His might unprecedented.

Slytherin called magic

A friend to those unlimited.

They were ambitious true,

To build this hallowed magic school,

But we all are when new,

And unexposed to what is cruel.

Take your first lesson here, then,

With this old Sorting Cap!

Loyalty weakens among men

Without Discretion apt,

But Wisdom without strong Courage

Is lost on selfish hearts,

And true friends weather worldly rage;   

Love is where your strength starts.

The sorting will not end before:

You heed History’s will

And Slytherin links with Gryffindor.

And none can know their place ‘til,

Hufflepuff joins with Ravenclaw!”

  
THE HAT’S message unnerved Rose and she noticed, anxiously, that Neville seemed to be troubled too. She wasn’t particularly surprised that he was nervous. Neville had gone to school with Rose’s parents, and he had been in their year and their house. Rose and Neville knew that THE HAT did not make forbidding speeches for no reason. It could sense danger and had often adjusted its song to forewarn the school of threats. If it was talking about unity this year then that meant that there was likely to be some kind of problem on the horizon. Neville glanced uncertainly at Headmistress Sinistra. 

The stately middle aged woman did not seem bothered by THE HAT’S song. Although, Headmistress Sinistra really was not the type of person who would get ruffled by a hat. She was supposed to be the opposite of the former Headmistress McGonagall. McGonagall had been sharp tongued on the outside, but Rose remembered hearing stories about her from her parents. From the stories McGonagall had seemed to Rose to be softer on the inside than she appeared. Meanwhile Headmistress Sinistra was like an iron hand hidden by a glove of velvet. The headmistress gestured for Neville to continue.  
  
“Well, that was weird.” Al whispered. Rose nodded her head. Ominous chanting generally did not bode well for anyone.

Neville cleared his throat, the sorting had begun.  
  
 “Adams, Percival!” was a Ravenclaw, “Alexander, Robert!” was a Hufflepuff, “Cimber, Una!” a Gryffindor, and so on. Rose began to notice that hardly anyone was being sorted into Slytherin.   
  
There were maybe eighty children and out of the forty plus students already sorted only three of them had been Slytherins. Malfoy was, of course, in Slytherin and then there was the black haired girl who had been behind Rose earlier, a dim looking blonde girl, and one tall lanky boy named Goyle who were sorted into Slytherin. Minutes after Goyle, Al’s name was called,  
  
“Potter, Albus!”

Rose heard the Hall hush into a stunning silence. She didn’t know why but her heart was beating just as hard as everyone else’s seemed to be. Rose could see Al’s knees shaking as he walked up to where THE HAT dangled from Neville’s fist. She clenched her hands and silently cursed the other students in her head, couldn’t they see they were making this more difficult for him? After the Sorting Hat was dropped over Al’s eyes the boy clenched his hands and began muttering something.

THE HAT appeared to listen at first and then held the Hall in suspense for a minute before mercifully shouting. “GRYFFINDOR!”

The Hall went absolutely nuts. Rose turned around and saw everyone giving him a standing ovation, even the Slytherins. Rose’s blood ran cold, what did they find so fascinating about Rose’s family? As Al hurried down to join James and his friends the Gryffindors screamed happily and shook Al’s hand. Al looked back at Rose. She quickly pasted up a smile and waved. He gave her the thumbs up and she turned around again.

THE HAT seemed to be glaring while it dangled from Neville’s hand. She grit her teeth to bite her choking anxiety. _I’m glad he’s happy._

 

 

Sometime afterwards all the students except Rose and a boy and girl with coffee colored skin had been sorted. There were only nine children in Slytherin. Most of the children were crowded around the Hufflepuff table.

Rose rubbed her arms. She hadn’t noticed standing with all the other children, but the Great Hall was cold. She prepared herself for the inevitable, 

“Weasley, Rose!” Neville shouted.

Her stomach twisted up her throat and out of habit and fear Rose looked over her shoulder at Al. She felt her heart thud to the bottom of her chest and immediately wished she hadn’t looked. No one was watching her.   
  
James was asleep, the rest of the Hall looked disinterested, and all her other cousins, even Al, were talking to friends.

Rose whipped her head around and stared at the first step, fighting a lump forming in the back of her throat. _Why’d they care so much earlier? Why isn’t anyone watching me now?_ Rose took a shaky first step towards THE HAT. _My own family isn’t even watching!_

Her eyes darted back to the Gryffindor table, hoping to see a change in her cousins, but there was no difference. Maybe all Weasleys were Gryffindors but Rose still felt angry _. They can’t just ignore me!_  Rose calmed herself and tucked the hurt in her chest away for latter. She would not be needing sorry feelings right now. Rose held her chin high and walked up the stairs to the stool. The Sorting Hat was so frayed and patched; Rose suddenly feared that it would fall apart before she could be sorted.

“Oops,” Neville would say “Well, I guess you get to choose on your own, Rosie.” Then Rose would really be in a pickle. Rose’s heart was killing her ribcage, her knees were shaking, and her hands were sweating so much that they were slick and cold. She sat on the stool trying to look much calmer than she felt. She tucked her feet underneath her.

Neville came and stood behind Rose’s shoulder so he would have the right angle for dropping THE HAT over her head and then the blood began to roar in her ears. 

She gripped the edge of her stool. Then Rose felt something heavy descending over her head. Her last thought as the canvas edges brushed her temples was, _Please, God, don’t let me disappear._ She shivered and a throaty voice above her shouted,  
  
 “SLYTHERIN!”    
  
Rose’s eyes widened still seeing the Great Hall because THE HAT hadn’t slipped over her head completely. She took in the lack of interest after this- this turn for the worst.

THE HAT, which had only reached the bottom of her bangs began to pull away.  
Everybody in the Hall was still talking. It had been that quick, The Sorting Hat hadn’t even been on her head long enough to give her lice and it had decided that she belonged in Slytherin?  
  
_That’s rubbish!_ Rose thought in panic, feeling as if her insides had been washed in cold water. She thought to hold that hat down on her head, make it speak to her, like it had seemed to with Al. But before she could make a grab for the hat brim it was gone and the Great Hall had realized what just happened. Rose’s eyes fell on her cousins’ currently uplifted and dumbfounded faces and a hush settled over the Great Hall.

James was awake. Al just stared at Rose. His face was white and it looked ghoulish with his black hair.   
  
_No, no, this is all wrong._  She thought to herself.

Everyone was watching her now.

Rose grasped the edge of her robes and slipped off the stool. She met no one’s eyes as she slowly, with as much dignity as she could muster, walked over to the Slytherin table.   
  
The applause was ragged and uncertain at best and when she finally sat down on the end of the bench no one cheered or patted her on the back. Actually, everyone scooted as far down the bench as they could. Obviously no one wanted to sit near her, Rose Weasley, the Slytherin.

Everything felt blank and empty inside her head, so much so that Rose didn’t care at all when the food appeared. She took a spoonful of stuffing out of one of the serving dishes and ended up eating only about half of it.    
  
Once the banquet was over the prefects herded everyone to the Common Rooms, for Rose that meant the dungeons.

She couldn’t help hearing a funeral dirge playing in the back of her mind. Rose stepped into the Common Room, not paying the least bit of attention to her surroundings, and turned to follow the other girls in her year. There was only one thing she wanted to do: go straight to bed. Unfortunately for Rose her “blissful” oblivion didn’t really last too long. Within seconds of entering in through the door she was sprawled on the floor. A girl with a large hooked nose had her wand pointed at the spot between Rose’s eyes. Rose looked around in astonishment and realized that practically the whole house had surrounded her.   
  
“You can’t go to bed with them!” the girl with the unfortunate nose said indicating the group of first years standing half way down a nearby corridor, “You’re not a Slytherin.” She whispered menacingly.

Rose quickly tried to gather her wits and shouted, while trying to stand up. “What do you mean? I am a Slytherin!”

The girl laughed derisively and knocked Rose backwards with another of her wordless spells.     
  
“Everyone knows Weasleys aren’t Slytherins!” someone in the back proudly pointed out.

Rose felt like pushing her way right through the crowd so she could slap the obnoxious git.   
  
“Which,” the girl continued for her friend in the back of the crowd, “Leaves us at a loss as to what to do with you.” She stepped closer to Rose so she could tower over the younger girl and her squinty eyes glinted dangerously as she grinned down.

 Rose looked around at the crowd for the prefects but they seemed to have disappeared. All the other children were either avoiding Rose’s eyes or glowering at her behind the Big Nosed Girl.

Rose swallowed a gasp of air.  _What am I doing here?_ She gripped the plush carpet. For a moment she remembered how this morning she had been expecting a completely different common room. Her stomach clenched. She couldn’t be thinking about that morning, when she had been surrounded by her family, not now. She would never be able to hold herself together if she did.

Big Nose was luckily unaware of Rose’s struggle to suppress these unwanted thoughts or the girl would have said something different. “So, what do **you**  think we should do now?”

Rose, to be honest, was grateful that the girl was being belligerent. She could focus on something other than her self-pity but, unfortunately, she was at a loss for words.

Big Nose smiled stiltedly down at Rose.

All Rose could come up with was to wish for someone to humiliate Big Nose too. Instead of saying what she thought Rose looked up at the girl through her eyelashes and just shrugged helplessly.

Someone sniggered. 

“What, the wonderful Rose Weasley doesn’t have anything to say?” Big Nose sneered.

Rose was grasping at straws now. What could she say that would make them the least angry?  
  
“It’s rude not to answer a question, Weasel!” a boy in the back shouted.

Rose blushed and felt a prickle of annoyance. “What if you don’t know the answer?” she muttered at last. Rose kept her voice low in the hopes of not giving hint to her anger.

But immediately someone behind her rudely shouted. “Speak up!”

The anger, the frustration that had been building up inside her rose to her head and she lost it. If this was the way these people wanted it, that’s how she’d give it to them. “What,” she raised her voice coldly, “If you don’t know the answer?” The room fell silent and Rose shivered but continued. She determinedly got to her feet and met their dubious gazes. “I don’t know why I was sorted here, but I’m here now.”

The crowd erupted into cries of outrage but Rose shouted over them. “I’m here now, and the Hat must have put me here for a reason!”  
  
“Go on give us a reason!” said Big Nose savagely. Her face was contorted into a disgusting shape from her rage. "Tell us why we have to put up with a self-righteous Weasley!”

Rose gritted her teeth in frustration. “I don’t know why!” she screamed back in frustration. “I already said that!”   
  
“Give us a reason!” somebody shouted, it was another girl, her face was strained. “Before we decide what to do with you.” There were sympathetic murmurs running through the crowd.

A wand, Big Nose’s wand, snaked under Rose’s chin and tilted her face so she was looking right up the other girl’s nostrils.

Rose gripped her own wand which was gradually warming under her cloak. She stared into the other girl’s indifferent, calculating eyes. Rose’s heart was in her throat.  
  
“Well?” Big Nose asked softly, “What should we do, Weasley?”      
  
“Wait, wait a minute!” the crowd turned to see a tall, confident, and white blonde first year boy step through to the front. 

 _Malfoy_. Rose thought to herself, just as surprised as the other children who had all turned to stare at the confident Slytherin boy. Her mind unwillingly flashed back to that morning on the platform when she had first seen him. She had been standing next to Al watching all the other students leap onto the scarlet Hogwarts Express when she had seen her dad nod at her out of the corner of her eye. Except, as Rose had soon realized, her father hadn't been looking at Rose, he had meant to catch her Uncle Harry’s eye.

 _Unfortunately,_  Rose had thought with a sigh.  _My dad is not really the best at covert operations._  (Rose had found out Santa wasn’t real when she was four because her dad had fallen over her while she was camped out in front of the Christmas tree. Rose had cried for hours.)   
  
Rose had followed the adults’ line of sight to see a very small family standing nearby. Rose stared at them for a second; but the boy had caught her at it and smirked. He had clever eyes and a pointy chin, his white blonde hair was messy, but his clothes were immaculate to say the least.

What caught Rose’s attention the most was how he watched everybody, like he knew everything about them. And when he caught Rose looking at him he appeared to read her mind in one second, he smirked.

Rose had blushed in shame and quickly faced forward, deciding to stare at the giant golden S painted on the train instead.

Now Malfoy glanced at her appraisingly with searching gray eyes.

 She stared back, not daring to hope he’d help her, while at the same time challenging him not to. _What do you want from me?_ She asked him silently.   
  
“What do you want, Scorpius?” asked Big Nose tiredly.

Rose looked at her in surprise.  _How does she know Malfoy?_

Malfoy didn’t reply but instead turned to face the crowd who was watching Malfoy carefully. He stuck his hands in his back pockets and said calmly but firmly, “She is right,”

Rose’s heart stopped.  _Is he helping me?_  Rose wondered, dumbstruck.

The scandalized Slytherins cried out.

Malfoy just calmly waited for it to die down. “The Sorting Hat wasn’t even on her head for longer than three seconds. He must have put her here for a reason.” He let them murmur amongst each other for a little bit before going on.

Rose was dumbfounded that a bunch of older kids were listening to this first year, but, she decided, she ultimately didn't care just so long as Malfoy helped her. 

“Slytherin,” Malfoy said, appealing to them, “Is the house for people with greatness in them. Why doesn’t she prove it?”

The small crowd fell into a thoughtful silence and Rose felt her heart begin to sink. She could guess where this was going.   
  
“So you’re saying we should test her?” Big Nose asked.

Malfoy nodded. “Yeah, if she’s a Slytherin let’s see how great she is.”  
  
“What if she’s hasn’t got enough ‘greatness’?” someone asked.

Malfoy shrugged. “She sleeps outside?” he suggested and Rose’s heart dropped like a ton of bricks. She felt like hexing Malfoy.   
  
“Think you can handle it Weasel?” Big Nose asked.

Rose forced herself to look up and give her a cold smile. “I know I can.” She answered with, what she hopped was, a confident voice.

People snickered, but Rose didn’t let it affect her.  _It doesn’t matter._ She thought grimly. _This isn’t important._  

On that note the conversation seemed to be at an end and everyone drifted off to their dormitories. Rose and Malfoy were left alone in the echoing Common Room.

Malfoy regarded her with a little smirk on his face. He seemed to enjoy smirking.  

“What?” she spat. He just shook his head and left Rose alone in the Common Room. 

 _Most detestable boy I have ever met in my entire life._ Rose decided but she sighed and shuffled away to her dormitory. Rose quit thinking again.

Her parents would be at home now, with Hugo in bed upstairs. Dad would be making coffee and comforting Mum who wanted to go check on Hugo again, even though he put himself to bed at eight every night.

Uncle Harry would call up on the telephone to see how they were doing. Lily, Al’s little sister, would want to speak to Hugo but of course he was asleep, Mum just checked. Then there were her cousins up in the Gryffindor Common Room. They usually stayed up all night with each other the first day back to Hogwarts. Rose could have done it with them if she’d been in Gryffindor.

Instead, Rose noiselessly slipped into her dormitory.   
  
It was larger than she had imagined, and colder than she would have liked. The ceilings were vaulted high with recesses that ended in shadows. The room had narrowly missed being designed like a tiny chapel. There was one window that opened into the lake, outside of which curled shadows that Rose attempted to dismiss as fresh water kelp. 

The four poster beds, three on the right side, four on the left, were aligned against the walls. Rose was surprised to see the green silk draperies decorated with embroidered curling silver vines. She hadn’t really expected there to have been any thought put into making the girl’s room pretty. She looked around the rest of the room and realized there were other little details, like pretty oil paintings on the walls and carvings up the wooden legs and posters of the beds. The other girls were all already breathing gently.

Rose shivered as she gingerly got dressed in her pair of clean robes for the next day.  _You can’t be sure these girls won’t try to mess with you, turn your alarm off or something._ Rose thought grimly to herself. She got into bed and shut all the curtains except the ones facing the window. She lay down the wrong way so she could watch the kelp sway and closed her eyes as gently as possible. 

_Rosie,_

She thought.

_You will not cry. You will not cry._

And she did not shed a tear, face huddled in the crook of her arm. Nobody knew, but still, Rose Weasley did not shed a tear.        

     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everybody! I hope you are enjoying the story so far! Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.


	3. Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Never do a wrong thing to make a friend--or to keep one.”   
> ― Robert E. Lee

Rose didn’t have a pleasant first week at Hogwarts. The first morning Rose woke up half an hour before class. Just like she had predicted, someone had messed with her clock. Rose had to run to her first class, Transfiguration, and miss breakfast. Classes were awful. She had to sit through Double Transfiguration and Double Charms while her stomach made noises that sound like an angry dog. To make matters worse she sat alone.

There were thirty two kids in her Transfiguration and Charms classes. Twelve of the kids were Slytherins, but the seat next to Rose endured in its emptiness.

The same pattern repeated all week. Rose tried to pretend that she wasn’t upset, but it hurt that even the “nice” Hufflepuffs ignored her. The Slytherins, who supposedly stuck by their own, were worse and had apparently decided she was a spy or some other rubbish. It didn’t matter where Rose was there was always a group of glaring Slytherins. Not even Rose’s dorm mates tried to become friends with her.

_Well, one of them had to be the one who turned my alarm off, so I guess I can’t expect anything else._

There were six girls in Slytherin with Rose. Two of the girls Rose had met before the sorting. Hannah Toulson was plain, quiet, and sullen. She didn’t stand out in any way whatsoever and seemed to like it that way. Her “friend,” or probably closer to acquaintance, was Millicent “Millie” Davies. She was pretty, she was loud, she was well liked, and she was probably the worst person in their year. She had made it her mission to advertise to the school just how unworthy Rose was to be a Slytherin.

 She wasn’t alone either. Abelena Sorin instantly became best friends with Davies. Sorin was vainer and stupider than Davies but just as malevolent. When Rose walked in a room there was a fit of giggles in the corner. When Rose passed the Slytherins in the halls someone would roll their eyes and say something under their breath. A lot of the time the Slytherins taunted Rose saying stuff like,

“Wish you dropped out Weasley? I do.” The Slytherins also enjoyed isolating her. For example, when Rose sat down to eat the whole group of first years sat down at the other end of the table.  
  
And the whole group meant the whole group. The Slytherins went everywhere together, excluding Rose, of course. Even if they didn’t seem to get along the Slytherins stuck together so that none of the other students could corner them. Between classes the Slytherins loitered in the halls instead of the grounds so that teachers were close at hand just in case. It was for good reason too. The other students clearly hated Slytherins. Rose, being the only lone Slytherin, became a target for all the first years at Hogwarts.

In Potions the Gryffindors took too many ingredients so Rose had to ask Professor Slughorn for extras. In History of Magic kids threw paper airplanes at her. Once, in Transfiguration, Rose was tripped while taking her buttons up to Professor McAlister. She couldn’t tell if the person who tripped her was a Gryffindor or a Slytherin.   
  
The other three girls in her year were Lima Dankworth, Christiany Sallows, and Decima Zabini. Zabini had been the last girl to be sorted. Zabini was alright she preferred to hang out with her twin brother and Malfoy and his friends rather than the other girls. Dankworth and Sallows were incredibly strange. They were the oddest pair anyone could think of, like ketchup and M&Ms.   
  
  Dankworth was white. She had limp, white blonde hair, eyes that weren’t blue or grey, and no color in her skin at all. The girl tended to follow Sallows around with a bored and slightly mystified expression on her round, baby-like face. She was always in Sallows’ wake, nodding to her half thoughts, listening to her endless prattle, standing by her side as she received detentions. It seemed as if Dankworth didn’t have a life of her own.  
  
 Sallows was completely different. She was glamorous and had perfectly straight black hair that fell to her hips, and was always bright and cheerful looking. The most striking bit about Sallows was her eyes. They were enormous and a brilliant shade of green Rose had only seen before in Albus but they were also surprisingly direct. They seemed to pierce you. Rose thought they were surprisingly direct because it was already apparent that Sallows would not be at the top of the class.   
  
The teachers had reprimanded her several times that first week for being late, talking in class, passing notes, doodling instead of taking notes, and talking back to teachers. Professor McAllister, their Transfiguration teacher, once had caught Sallows passing a note to Goyle and mocked her, much to Rose’s disgust, in front of the entire class.   
  
“If, Miss Sallows,” Professor McAlister began, his voice heavy with sarcasm, “You feel asking Mister Goyle whether a pygmy puff really costs ‘only a sickle’ is more pertinent to your future than an education is then, by all means continue.” He rolled his eyes at the Gryffindors.

A few of the girls giggled, but thankfully even most of the Gryffindors seemed a little put off by the professor’s behavior. 

_Honestly,_ Rose thought.  _He’s completely immature._  
  
To everyone’s surprise Sallows looked up at Professor McAllister and replied a bit too politely, “Professor, if I thought for a minute that we were learning something more interesting and  _pertinent_ than turning buttons into spiders I would pay attention.”

The entire class had giggled at this.

“But,” Sallows continued sardonically, “This lesson is making me sleepy and I’d rather have a pink pygmy puff than a bunch of spiders.”

Professor McAllister stood stock still for a moment with his flabby face turning an angrier red every second and then said. “Detention, Sallows!”

She had simply whisked her hair out her shiny green eyes and smiled sweetly up at the balding man. “Of course, Professor,”

 Dankworth had rolled her eyes.   
  
Sallows and Dankworth were popular in Slytherin. They were always the center of attention, even Toulson, Davies, and Sorin acted sweeter while they were hanging out with Sallows and Dankworth. Rose liked them because they seemed too involved in their own lives to ruin hers.      
  
The worst part of Rose’s week, though, wasn’t the other kids. The worst part wasn’t the classes. The worst part was lunch, Rose’s first lunch. The disaster happened the first day of school after Rose had been forced to silently sit for four hours until she could eat. She was walking to the Great Hall when Victoire of all people decided to talk.

She cornered Rose outside the hall and the conversation they had went something like:   
Victoire: “Don’t worry about being a Slytherin, Rosie; it’s not your fault. Besides, hardly anyone actually cares.”  
  
Rose: “Do you know how stupid you sound? How are you even in Ravenclaw? Just leave me alone, Victoire.”

So, yeah, in the end, Rose was avoided by the only family member who had actually bothered to seek her out.   
  
Rose had thought that Albus at least would-  _Well I thought **he** at least would talk to me. _She admitted to herself.

Al’s avoidance hurt Rose the most. They were supposed to be best friends. They were family. But the first time Rose had seen Al, that same day she’d blown up at Victoire, he’d ignored her.  
  
 Rose remembered how she looked up from her yogurt right when Al walked into the Great Hall. For a split second their eyes met. He stopped when he saw Rose, but James saw Al hesitate and whispered something in his ear. Al, who never listened to James, nodded and walked away. Rose had felt like her chest was being rent open.

It had probably been something like: ‘She never was the best Weasley, Al.’ or ‘There’s really nothing you can do for her now.’ Or some other rubbish like that.   
  
The last straw was when the letters from home came. Rose hadn’t sent a letter to her parents, but they sent one to her: a fat wad of parchment, no doubt dominated by her mum’s hand writing. Rose had burnt it outside after breakfast.   
  
_What do they know?_ Rose thought angrily as she watched the letter’s edges begin to curl and shrivel away.  _They couldn’t know what it’s like to have everyone hate you,_

“Urg,” Rose groaned dejectedly and buried her face in her arms.  _I don’t want them to know._ She bit her lip, trying to keep from sobbing like an idiot, and rested her chin on her hands.  _That would ruin them._ Rose could imagine her parents sitting at the kitchen table worrying if Rose was making friends.Rose shook her head and watched with dry eyes, as the last bit of the letter turned to ash and blew away.  _It really isn’t worth writing to them._ She decided while looking out over the grounds.   
  
The world seemed to be continuing without being troubled by Rose and her pesky family problems, which was weirdly comforting. _I can at least move on with my life after this whole problem is over. The world isn’t going to end and if it doesn’t end then I still have, options…_   From her perch she gazed over the dark line of trees in the Forbidden Forest and Quidditch players, from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, who were already gathering for tryouts.

They looked like they were arguing, probably about who had booked the pitch. It occurred to Rose that they also looked like bumble bees and fallen leaves blustering around. She smiled wanly at the sight but let her thoughts drift elsewhere when she saw a flash of silver and green heading out to the lake.   
  
All week the only thing that had kept her going, as much as she hated to admit it, was avoiding Victoire and Scorpius Malfoy. Rose had been able to avoid everyone except Malfoy, or Mal, as he insisted the other Slytherins call him. Rose personally thought that the nickname was stupid, but that was none of her business.    
  
Everyday Rose did her best to avoid the other Slytherins. She woke up an hour and half earlier than everyone else, she got to bed two hours after the last people in the Common Room, and walked smack dab in the middle of crowds going to her classes. She did everything she could think of to avoid being cornered, but whenever Malfoy saw her he shot her this patronizing look. It was all Rose could do to not hex him in the middle of class, so instead she worked harder.   
  
Malfoy was surprisingly smart but Rose refused to let him beat her in anything. If Malfoy answered a question, Rose answered three, if Malfoy completed a charm, Rose did it better. In the end it began to pay off in a way. The other Slytherins at least learned that Rose was not going to make a mistake and quit openly taunting her. Instead, when Rose passed she now heard them gossiping about how she cheated to get her grades.  

_But,_ Rose mused reluctantly.  _Malfoy is very strange…_

She picked up a leaf that was sitting by her foot and methodically began to shred it.  _He acts like he doesn’t like me, but he’s never angry when I do well. And then he did help me on the first night. If it wasn’t for what Malfoy had said they’d probably have never left me alone._

Rose grimaced at the thought of owing Malfoy something, and then stopped shredding her leaf. She stared unseeingly at the tiny symmetrical pieces scattered across her skirt. She attacked the other side of the leaf.  _He’s helped me the whole week, why, why would he do that? Maybe-_

Rose shook her head and abruptly pushed the idea away while standing up and brushing herself off, letting the scraps of the leaf mingle with the letter’s ash. She faced towards the Quidditch pitch and watched as the Gryffindor team pushed past the still angry Hufflepuffs. She crossed her arms and huffed. Malfoy was just weird, that’s all, she decided, angry herself, but in the back of her mind the shadow of a doubt was tucked away. Rose began the hike back to the castle.

At the doors she had to wait for a large group of fifth year Gryffindors to pass, but just as she was about to go inside one of the girls pointed to the lake. “Look, I wonder what the team wants with the Slytherins.”

Rose’s head snapped up.

 Down by the lake where she had spotted the Slytherin group moments before there was a large crowd of students. They all seemed to be watching as the Gryffindor Quidditch team bore down on a trio of Slytherins.

Rose backed into a corner warily, trying to not be seen by the fifth years.

And as if on cue the girl looked around. “Wasn’t there a Slytherin girl just here?” she asked. Her friend rolled his eyes. “It’s a Slytherin, they’re all bloody cowards.”

Rose’s face burned in shame.

“It’s probably already seen the crowd and’s gone off to hide or something.”   
  
“You’re right,” said another girl, “Come on, let’s go see what’s up.”

Rose waited until the group was a good distance off and then followed. She was curious about the crowd too, whether she’d admit it or not.

The other students were getting excited and as Rose got closer she could see why. In the center of the crowd stood none other than James Potter, Fred and Molly Weasley and Malfoy and his friends: Mark Goyle and Clifford McGuire.   
  
“You tripped her, Albus saw you trip her!” James was shouting at Malfoy. Goyle and McGuire were standing there looking like they were about to cry, but Malfoy just sneered at James. Rose froze. 

_Who are they talking about?_  Rose wondered in shock. Malfoy avoided her family. 

_They couldn’t be talking about me. No they have to be talking about me._  She realized numbly. _Who else could it be?_  Her mind flashed back to that day in Transfiguration, when she’d been tripped. She couldn’t remember who had done it but she was certain it wasn’t Malfoy.

Malfoy had been in the back of the class and the foot she had tripped on made her lose all her buttons right at Professor McAlister’s feet. Malfoy had, Rose remembered with a jolt, been called up by Professor McAlister to help Rose pick up her scattered buttons. Al too, had just coming back from the loo right in time to Malfoy and Rose picking up the buttons. He hadn’t seen the whole incident.    
  
“I did not bloody trip Weasley, Potter, get that through your thick head.” Malfoy scowled defiantly.  

Molly crossed her arms in that annoying, no nonsense way of hers. “Are you calling us liars?”

Malfoy was visibly losing the battle to keep his cool. “It wasn’t us.” He hissed through clamped teeth.

Rose’s heart began to pound where were they going with this?   
  
“Then who was it?” Fred asked pulling out his wand threateningly.

Molly glanced down at it. “Fred put that away.” She said dismissively. “They haven’t admitted to tripping Rose yet.”

Rose gripped her wand instead. So what if he hadn’t, Molly, Fred and James hadn’t been there. _They think they’re gallant._

Rose unexpectedly felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see a Hufflepuff boy gripping her robes. “This is her isn’t it, Rose Weasley?” he called waving an obnoxiously large hand. Everyone turned to look at them. “Just ask her,” he pushed Rose through the crowd till she was standing between the two groups.

Gryffindors to the left, Slytherins to the right, Rose felt like a cornered rabbit.   
  
“Rosie!” James exclaimed in surprise.

Rose looked at the ground and avoided her cousins’ eyes. “James,” she replied shortly.

She felt a steady pressure on her shoulder and looked back up to see Molly's hand on her shoulder. Rose’s eyes traveled up to Molly’s, which were so much like Rose's, and were trained on her face. 

“Rosie, didn’t these three trip you?” Molly asked.

Rose blushed. _Just tell them._ She thought desperately. _Tell them they’re wrong_. But Rose found herself having difficulty getting up the words.

  
“Go on, Rosie,” Fred said encouragingly, “We’ll believe you, besides those gits deserve what’s coming to them anyways.”

 Rose felt a trickle of cold seep down her back. She looked back up at her older cousins in disbelief.

James nodded emphatically. “They deserve it, Rosie,” 

_What does “anyways” mean?_  She shrugged off Molly’s hand and her cousins stared at her in shock.

The crowd was quiet.

“What do you mean ‘anyways’?” she asked Fred, staring at him.

He didn’t get it and just stared back, confused. “I mean, they’ve been awful to you from the start haven’t they?”

Rose’s back and chin straightened. “And what have you done about that? What does that have to do with right now?” she demanded angrily. For days she had been without so much as a friendly glance and now her family was deciding to stick up for her?   
  
“Rosie,” Molly started, but Rose shook her head.

This wasn’t about her. Molly and Fred and James hadn’t thought about her all week.  _So what is this about?_  “No!” she shouted, “You haven’t talked to me at all since the sorting, where were you earlier, when Malfoy was supposedly tripping me? Where were you when I was sitting alone, or walking in the halls alone? Where were you guys?”

The crowd began to murmur.   
  
“Rosie!” Molly hissed.   
  
“He insulted us too, Rosie,” James said angrily. “He insulted the whole family!”

Fred nodded. “He said that we didn’t have a mind of their own.’”

“So that’s it,” she said, seething, “You were embarrassed by a first year so you pinned the whole tripping thing on him.”

She was answered by silence. The only thing she could hear to confirm her suspicions was the whisper of the autumn wind. Nobody spoke up, not Molly, not the Hufflepuff, not Malfoy.

Rose gritted her teeth and closed her eyes. “Malfoy never tripped me.” She said as evenly as she could. Her hands were shaking but she kept her eyes closed and continued speaking as calmly as she could. “He didn’t trip me and I want you to leave him alone.”   
  
“Rosie,” James said abruptly, Rose looked up to see him scowling at her. His hazel eyes were dark and small. “Are you a Weasley or not?” He asked.

Rose’s heart broke. She hated this. She really hated having to choose sides, and especially against her family, but they were wrong! To make matters worse Malfoy was just standing behind Rose letting her do all the talking. She hated him, she hated Malfoy now, but her family was definitely wrong.  _They can’t gang up on Malfoy just because he said something idiotic, he’s an idiot! That’s what they do!_  

“I’m a Slytherin, too, James.” She gasped. Her feet felt like they were leaden weights that were pulling her into the soft ground. “Just leave him alone.” She trembled for a second under James’s gaze. It took every ounce of her willpower to walk away.

The crowd parted to let her through and no one followed her as she marched alone up the hill to the castle. The wind whistled.      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone!  
> Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Everybody, this is my first work! I hope you like it and please feel free to leave suggestions, comments, and/or corrections. 
> 
> Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.


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